


Dark Moon

by BronzedViolets



Series: Call of the Moon [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Biting, Bonding, Bottom!Lock, First Time, John is a Bit Not Good, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Rimming, Wolf John, Wolf Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzedViolets/pseuds/BronzedViolets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John returns from the war an Alpha Wolf and moves in with a brilliant detective who is 'flattered by his interest' but 'doesn't do relationships.' </p><p>Years and one fall later Sherlock, who never imagined that he could be anyone's best friend, finds out the hard way just how much he means to John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Untethered

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a bit of an experiment done in response to an anonymous prompt. This fic is a re-writing of my fic Wolfsbane except that the roles of John and Sherlock have been reversed. It is also in my opinion a fair amount darker than the original. A big chunk of the text is the same so I guess this counts as plagiarizing myself? The first chapter is John’s POV, the second is Sherlock’s. Either way, hope you enjoy!

When John Watson stalked into Barts and saw Sherlock Holmes for the first time, his first impression was nothing more than a spark of gratitude it wasn’t another one of his med school colleagues. Walking through London with a chain around his neck advertising to all and sundry that he was a Wolf was painful enough. He did not relish the thought of explaining his present circumstances to someone else who remembered him from his days as a resident, back when he was young and human and his life was full of promise.

That spark grew into something else, something that warmed the cold and parched places inside of him when the stranger handed him back his mobile and looked at him for the first time.

“I play the violin when I’m thinking. Sometimes I don’t talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other. Oh, and I don’t harbour any trite prejudices about Wolves if that's what you are worried about.”

John was struck momentarily dumb, and had to give himself a mental shake before he was able to respond.

“No, I mean… Who said anything about flatmates? We don’t know a thing about each other; I don’t know where we’re meeting; I don’t even know your name.”

The man’s eyes raked over him for a long second before he launched into an array of deductions that left John dazzled. After months of people avoiding his gaze at best and crossing the street at worst, to have someone look at him was intoxicating and if John was honest with himself, more than a little arousing.

While it was true they didn’t burn Wolves at the stake anymore, people still tended to be uncomfortable around someone who could transform in the blink of an eye and rip your throat out. When people found out he was an Alpha on top of that they tended to back away, being sure to make no sudden movements.  

John wanted to scream after them that he hadn’t chosen this, and even if he had, he wasn’t liable to whip out his dick and try to mount them right there in the dairy aisle at Tescos. He knew Alphas had a reputation as being sexually insatiable, but unless they were in the presence of their bonded Omega they were no different than anyone else. While it was true that John had been bitten and turned by an Omega Wolf, it was assuredly not in the context of a bonding. Far from it. He’d been bitten on the thigh while lying in the dust of Chardara, bleeding to death from a gunshot to the shoulder. In retrospect, he was fairly certain the Afghani Wolf was going for his femoral artery, but Major Sholto had put a silver bullet through her heart before she succeeded.

Ironically, instead of ending it, the bite saved John’s life. Without the enhanced constitution of a Wolf, his shoulder wound would have likely killed him. It was not without a cost, as his ‘condition’ earned him a medical discharge from the RAMC.  Which was how he found himself in the basement of Barts making plans to look at a flat with a madman. A strangely likeable, charming madman.

***

The next day, over some light surveillance and a steak so rare it was bloody, John realized two things. First, while Sherlock was flattered by his ‘interest’ he did not _do_ relationships. Second, John would do anything to keep Sherlock Holmes in his life. If a physical relationship was not to be, John would content himself with soaking up the warm sun of his genius. Sherlock had told him that his being a Wolf was ‘fine’ and John was inclined to believe he actually meant it.

For the first time since John was bitten he could feel the future opening up before him like a flower unfurling, the claustrophobic bedsit already fading from his memory.

***

Time passed and John sublimated his lust with anonymous human women, most of them met in the dark corners of the Internet. He got to scratch an itch, and they got to say they fucked a Wolf and lived to tell the tale.

By day, the detective and his blogger worked in tandem, by night John slept alone in the second bedroom. Every fourth week, John would answer the call in his blood. He would spend the night racing through Regent’s park before slinking back to the flat in the small hours to watch his companion sleep. He would fall asleep stretched out in front of Sherlock’s door like he could protect him from the bitterness of the world outside

Of this strange ritual Sherlock never commented.

Then, one day it was over. Sherlock lay dead at the foot of Barts and something inside John died too.

***

John silently ascended the 17 steps after another gruelling double shift counting pills at the Chemists. Since his transformation he had been unable to find work at a human surgery, and the nearest Wolf-only clinic was in Cardiff. He didn't need the money, not anymore, but it beat the alternative of sitting alone in an empty flat wondering how long he could fight the call of the moon.

He pushed the door open and was hanging his coat up on the peg when he caught the scent of wool and tobacco and _Sherlock_.

He spun around, heart in his throat.

_Sherlock was standing in the kitchen._

John blinked twice. His former flatmate was thinner, maybe a little more world weary, but his eyes were the same. It was Sherlock and he was alive. John felt the blood rush away from his face as comprehension raced through him with a shock so stark it was like being doused in ice water.

“You utter bastard, how could you do that to me?” John croaked out, rage and grief distorting his voice into something unfamiliar. “I saw you broken on the pavement. How? How?”

Sherlock looked uncharacteristically uncertain as he began trying to explain in a hushed voice. “I am so sorry John, you have to understand, Moriarty had it all planned out. Either I fell or he would kill you and Lestrade and Mrs Hudson.”

John stumbled then, darkness rushing in from the corners of his vision. For a second he was not sure if he would vomit or black-out. Bracing himself with his back against the ancient wall paper, he took deep shuddering breaths until the ringing in his ears abated.

“Do you have any idea what I went through Sherlock, do you have any fucking idea? I haven't been able to change in months because I am fucking terrified of what I would do.”

“I can explain John. I…”

He raised a trembling fist, ready to to punch those cheekbones when Sherlock stopped him cold.

“John, wait, before you make me go, just let me have this one thing.”

Before John could say anything Sherlock surged forwards, crushing their lips together in a burning kiss.

Instead of smashing that beautiful face, John instead he found himself grabbing silky curls with his fingers and falling forwards to better taste that soft mouth. It was flavoured with tears, a hint of the scorched iron of anger, and underneath all of it home.

Pulling away, Sherlock panted into his  mouth. “I did it for you John, I know you don't love me like this but I couldn't let you die. You have to believe me.”

John couldn't take it any more. He felt like he was clinging to his sanity by his fingernails, and then something...slipped.

Maybe it wouldn't have happened if he had been changing regularly, maybe it was always destined to happen, but John lost his grip on the beast within.

A crackle of energy erupted through the air like gunfire and John’s clothes were ripped to shreds as he shifted into his Wolf form.  

 

End Notes 

My apologies as this has not been betaed, if you see any glaring errors please let me know and I will fix them asap. Also, why not follow me on Tumblr? All of the porno spam bots think I am cool. [BronzedViolets](http://bronzedviolets.tumblr.com/)


	2. Bonded

A silver Wolf stared the detective down, hackles raised and eyes a cold blue.

Sherlock eyes went comically wide but he made no move to run, not that it would have helped. Instead he hung his head and waited for death.

For a drawn out second nothing happened, and then he was flat on his back on the kitchen floor, 70 kilos of Wolf breathing hot on his neck.

All he could muster was a shocked “umph” before he felt sharp teeth slicing through his fine shirt right into the smooth flesh of his shoulder.

It was then that things really went sideways. The very colour seemed to leach from the room. The last coherent thought he had before it was lost in the swirling darkness was at least he had seen John one last time.

***

Sherlock blinked twice, the world shifting vertiginously. Something was wrong. The light was different, their kitchen a stark and alien greyscale. John was astride his back pinning him down and holding him immobile with a tight bite on the back of his neck. He tried turning his head to the side but John gave a rumbling growl of warning.

Sherlock looked down to see two charcoal black paws, massive for a natural wolf, but markedly smaller than John’s when he walked in his Wolf skin. He could see the ruins of his clothes littering the floor around them like so many fallen leaves. He tried to piece together what had happened but his head felt like it was packed with cotton wool, shorted out by too much information screaming through his nervous system. A million smells vied for his attention. It was a miasma of chemicals, dust, blood, and under it all a scent that was uniquely...John.

He couldn’t explain it but the scent was deeper and richer than how John normally smelled in his Wolf form. It was something dark and musky and...powerfully arousing.

The scent combined with the throbbing pain in his shoulder was enough to spark Sherlock’s shaky understanding of what had happened. _He had been claimed._

When he’d let himself into Baker Street to wait for John, he’d known he could never make amends for what he had done, but he could at least try to explain. When it looked like John was going to throw him out on his ear, Sherlock had taken an emotional risk, perhaps for the first time in his life. Considering he was now in Wolf-skin pinned down on the lino, he was willing to admit he may have misjudged the situation. But how was he to have known how deep John’s feelings ran? He’d found it hard to believe John considered him a friend let alone _this_.

The proof was undeniable though. John had marked him, turned him, and claimed him. If he’d meant to kill him, the Alpha would have ripped his throat out. If John had only meant to turn him, he could have bitten him anywhere else on his entire body. But no, John had gone for the Bonding bite. Maybe not on purpose but the sentiment had to have been there didn't it?

Sherlock shivered with excitement, his cock starting to thicken. He had a fair idea what was coming next. John had never denied that he was an Alpha and if Sherlock was not mistaken (the hardening of John’s cock where it was pressed against his back being hard to ignore) that made Sherlock his Omega.

Not even in his wildest fantasies had he dared to believe that John would claim him in this way. He had grudgingly accepted that John preferred women, if his track record was anything to go by. Sherlock had to satisfy himself with lonely wanks in the shower when John was at work. But now….

Sherlock shivered again as a hard cramp seized his midsection and he let out an involuntary whimper.

John, perfect John, was right there, releasing his ruff, and laving the wound on his shoulder with a tender rumbling growl.

The absolute love his felt radiating from this Alpha was intoxicating. He felt another hard spasm in his middle and his cock hardened into fullness, rigidly rising up to rest flat against his stomach.

 _Oh God_ , a wave of pure _need_ rose up from deep within him and he let out a pitiful whimper. He could feel a warm ache in his bottom as his entrance loosened, and his front legs started to buckle beneath him. Sherlock collapsed onto his belly, haunches up in the air, presenting himself to his Alpha. If he could have spoken, all he would have said was _please John, please…._

In response, John closed his powerful jaws around the back of Sherlock's neck and half carried half dragged him into the adjacent bedroom, depositing him unceremoniously on the bed. John then hopped down with agility of a jungle cat before lifting a leg and pissing copiously on the door frame, claiming Sherlock's old bedroom as _theirs._

The territorial display complete, the Alpha growled in satisfaction, and leapt back onto the bed with his waiting mate. Sherlock found himself arching up like a bitch in heat, whining in desperation as his leaking cock smeared pre-ejaculate across the dusty sheets.  He could smell John’s arousal and for a second thought he would come from that alone. The thought of submitting made something dark and complicated spark within him. His cock twitched hard against his belly, a silky dribble of pre-come sliding down his shaft.

John seemed to be equally affected by his submission, and with a roar of triumph, thrust home, forcing the blunt head of his cock into the virgin passage. Sherlock was delirious with the pain-pleasure of it. He whimpered and John pulled out slightly and then slammed back in, quickly building to an unforgivingly brutal rhythm. Sherlock couldn't think, all he could smell was John, all he could taste was John, all he could hear was John.

Sherlock was so wet that when his Alpha began pounding into him with increasingly frantic thrusts, he could feel the slick trickling down his hind legs in a steady stream. Sherlock had never felt anything that good, until John gripped his ruff in his powerful jaws and the changed angle brought the head of his cock into contact with a deeper part of the Omega’s inner walls. John rode him with ruthless abandon, his cock slamming into that place again and again. Sherlock felt like he had been struck by lightning, a powerful charge of pleasure unlike anything he had ever felt before sparking through his nerves and muscles. His back arched, his shoulders dipping down as his hips pushed up. He felt his balls draw up tight against his groin but instead of ejaculating like he expected, the tension just kept spooling, tighter and tighter within him. John, for his part was still pounding into him furiously, spittle flying from his slavering jaws as he readjusted his grip. The stretch was incredible and paradoxically seemed to be growing as the Alpha continued to mercilessly fuck him into the mattress.

The pressure inside increased until it felt like the base of John’s cock would split him in two. The Alpha could barely even thrust anymore the fit was so tight. The movement was reduced to a stuttering grind, the head of his cock butting against that spot even as he drove his hips so hard Sherlock was was slammed bodily forward each time. Sherlock could not catch his breath as his pleasure gathered molten in his groin, tendrils of it rising up his core to spark through his spinal column. The feeling rose like a tidal wave, the pleasure ebbing and flowing from groin, to his nipples, to the spot where John had marked him with the bonding bite. This had never been a particular erogenous zone of his, but now the skin felt almost as sensitive  and swollen as his cock. Every pump of the Alpha’s powerful hips dragging the skin where it was pulled taut by John’s jaws.

Suddenly, whatever knife’s edge of ecstasy the two of them were balanced on gave. John un-latched his jaws and as he gave one last brutal thrust his razor sharp canine slid almost delicately through Sherlock’s fur deeper into the wounds he had already made. At the same time, he savagely forced the swollen base of his cock past the last ring of resistance in Sherlock’s opening.

The contrast between the almost surgical slide of teeth into flesh and the animal blunt force of the penetration was staggering. Sherlock gave one last helpless bark as the wave of pleasure washing over him finally crested and broke. He began ejaculating copiously as he felt John spilling hot inside  him, gush after gush of come filling him up, muscles locked so hard around the Alpha’s cock that not a drop spilled out.

The room seemed to dim again as Sherlock was subsumed in pleasure, before colour exploded across his vision. The whole room appeared to give a nauseous lurch as the Omega felt the tell-tale prickle of energy crackling through the room, making his fur stand on end.

***

When Sherlock’s vision finally cleared, the room was back to its customary chromatic spectrum. He was spread-eagled face down on the bed, naked, human, and lying in a frankly appallingly large pool of semen. John was a warm weight on his back, his cock still hard as a rock and buried deep in his Omega’s arse.

The resultant tingling pleasure in Sherlock’s groin was almost enough to overshadow the sharp edged pain of the Bonding bite on his shoulder.

“Jesus sodding Christ Sherlock, I am so fucking sorry,” John sputtered, struggling to push himself away from Sherlock.  

“John, I- uhh... ohhh fuck” Sherlock started, stopping mid sentence as John’s cock pulsed hard, another hot burst of come spurting within him.

John’s paroxysm triggered another orgasm in him. His cock twitching and pumping more semen onto the soaked mattress.

“Fuck, Sherlock, I... For God’s sake don’t move, I am going to try to pull-out!” John gasped as soon as his climax waned.

“No - you can’t,” Sherlock shouted, clamping down on John’s member as hard as he could with his internal muscles. “You don’t understand, I want this, I want you.”

John moaned half in disbelief half in pleasure, and continued speaking into the crook of Sherlock's neck as his opposite hand snaked up to tweak a pebbled nipple.

“So what you are saying is you can never leave me again? Even if you wanted to?” John groaned.

Sherlock stiffened under him as though he had been slapped. “I never wanted to!” he snarled, “I did it to save your life and it almost killed me. I spent most of the last two years tracking criminals through the slums of Serbia, with no outside contact except for sodding Mycroft, I would do it again in a second if it meant not having to worry about finding you dead and cold with your head blown off,"  Sherlock continued, voice thundering. “I'm back and as long as I’m alive no one will ever come between us again. I am _your_ Omega and if anyone threatens us again I expect you to tear their fucking throat out while I watch!”

With that pronouncement ringing in the air, John surged forward with a growl and sucked hard on the Bonding bite until Sherlock’s hole twitched hard around his cock, and the two of them were swept under again.

***

The following hours became a blur of need and frantic coupling, the two of them shifting frequently as Sherlock’s cycling hormones drove them higher and higher into a froth of animal lust.

When Sherlock was in his human form he kept up a muttered litany of “I’m sorry” and “please forgive me for leaving you” as John drove into him over and over.  

More than once, a human Sherlock was woken from a doze to find John in his Wolf form sloppily licking his Omega’s arsehole, each lick sending pleasure fizzing through his nervous system until he shifted, semen already spraying across his furry belly as he frantically presented so John could mount him properly. Sometimes it was Sherlock who would wake John by climbing astride and sinking down on his mate’s almost perpetually hard cock, riding him mercilessly until he found his release.

It took another 12 hours before their fevered coupling finally quenched the thirst of Sherlock's first heat as an Omega Wolf and he fell into a deep dreamless sleep, John collapsed in a boneless heap next to him, an Alpha with his Omega, the way it was always meant to be.

 

End Notes

This still has not been betaed, if you see any glaring errors please let me know and I will fix them asap. Also, why not follow me on Tumblr @ [BronzedViolets](http://bronzedviolets.tumblr.com/)


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